


Fallout

by EnterWittyNameHere



Series: The Cannibal and the Canary [6]
Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alastor Being a Jerk (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor is in Hell for a Reason (Hazbin Hotel), Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angel Dust Being Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Author tries her hand at canon-typical humour, Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Drug Use, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Possessive Behavior, Psychological Torture, Recreational Drug Use, Some heavy shit in this one..., Vox is an evil Bing Crosby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:34:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24294427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnterWittyNameHere/pseuds/EnterWittyNameHere
Summary: You weren't sure what you had expected to come from the night you shared with Alastor, but surely this was *not* it.In which Reader continuously makes bad decisions...and, well, this is Hell, after all.
Relationships: Alastor (Hazbin Hotel)/Reader
Series: The Cannibal and the Canary [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1689610
Comments: 11
Kudos: 98





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome back lovelies!
> 
> This not-so-little snapshot takes place not long after my last post. I don't think the series will continue in this linear fashion much, but it was an idea I had to explore. 
> 
> Angel Dust is my emotional support demon :)  
> (I can't write accents to save my life so...)

It seemed that your afterlife was to be plagued by uncertainty, the growing pit of self-doubt that seemed to have taken root in your belly a constant ache from day to day. You weren't sure what you had expected to come from the night you shared with Alastor, but after your shared coffee, he escorted you back to your room before bidding you goodnight- and had promptly disappeared off on business for the next week without so much as a goodbye.

Feeling rather put out, and further angry with yourself for feeling as such, you turned to sulking about the hotel, going about your duties over the week with less than your usual enthusiasm. You tried your best to keep it from the others, least of all Charlie became aware of the source of your mood. You had a feeling getting yourself wrapped up with Alastor was the last thing your journey to redemption needed.

Therefore, as soon as the Princess dismissed you for the evening, you headed to your favourite hideaway in the Hotel, hoping for some fresh air and some time away from the rest to try and clear your head. Or at the very least, wallow in your misery without fear of being seen.

The night sky in Hell was nothing more than a mockery of the one above. Although the light would fade into the inky darkness, the stars burned dimly red in their placement; far above, the burning white circle that marked the Almighty's kingdom shone in place of any moon. Despite this, you had found the far wing of the Hotel, namely the top rook, to offer some welcome solace.

A gentle breeze lifted your hair as you leaned on the balcony railing; you closed your eyes, trying to enjoy the moment. Below you, the normal din and chaos of Pentagram City raged on, never truly quieting even with the hour growing late. The noise irritated you far more than usual, your skin crawling- _buzzing-_ and your sigils flickered, burning hot before dimming and then lighting again.

Your powers had been a little inconsistent lately; sometimes, surges of magic thrummed at your fingertips, so strong that you worried you might shift just from the urge alone. Other times, you felt as though you had been sapped of all energy. While it was new, you had yet to decide if it was something you needed to concern yourself over; a small part of you wondered if your shared moment with Alastor had triggered some change.

Your eyes flew open at a rather loud crash from off in the distance, the slight spook causing your twin shadow to unfurl to cocoon around you. You felt wispy fingers crawl through your tresses, and although its claws caught more than once, you felt a twinge of gratitude for its apparent drive to comfort you.

“I'm alright,” You whispered aloud, waving your twin shadow away. You felt it leave more than you saw it, your eyes trained on the city sky-line in the distance.

“You sure about that, toots?” A voice came from behind you. You flinched and spun on your heel to find Angel Dust leaning against the rooftop hatch, his long lithe form posed rather exquisitely. “I ain't an expert, but I think talkin' to yourself is, like, the first sign of being crazy.”

You gave him a small shrug, looking him over. He was dressed outside of his usual revealing clothing, instead donning an oversized sweater that fell past his thighs and fluffy knee-high socks. You felt a slight twinge of jealousy at how _pretty_ he was, all the more aware of your marks flaring and your awkward antlers and tufted ears. Admittedly your interactions with Angel were far and few between, his connection to Valentino and the other Overlords automatically making you wary of him; however, you found you enjoyed his company nonetheless, as uncouth as he was at times.

“Don't mind me, honey.” You drawled, forcing a small smile. “Just tired is all.”

Angel pushed himself off the doorway with the lower set of his arms, the first pair fiddling in his chest fluff until he was able to withdraw a neatly wrapped joint. He gracefully lit the end and puffed away until it caught, taking a deep drag. He offered it to you wordlessly, to which you raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Perhaps I'm mistaken, Angel, but I don't remember cannabis on the Princess's 'a-ok' list...”

“Ehh,” The feminine spider waved both left hands dismissively, coming to lean against the balcony railing. “That bitch is lucky she's immortal, she'd have run herself into the ground by now. This place is no damn fun.”

“Better than begging on the streets,” You pointed out, unable to keep the amused grin off your face. He rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue, but said no more, instead moving the joint to his lips to puff away again. He did so with some underlying sensuality that made you marvel at him slightly.

You nudged him after a moment and motioned for his joint. He threw his head back with a pretty laugh but passed it to you nonetheless. You had tinkered in all kinds of sin since you first fell, and truthfully given the situation you were in, you doubted a bit of weed would set you back all that far. You took a deeper inhale than you meant too, your eyes watering a bit, but you prided yourself on not hacking up a lung in front of the spider. You handed it back to him after you exhaled and he gave you a playful shove with his lower right hand.

“You're alright, even if you are a crazy broad.”

“Thank you,” You wheezed, throat a bit tingly still.

You two fell into a rather comfortable silence, Angel puffing away and occasionally passing the joint back to you. You took another hit but waved him off when he passed it back again, already feeling the effects on your body. You took a deep breath and leaned over the railing, enjoying the lightweight feeling that settled over your body, your muscles relaxing and your mind wandering. It was the most peaceful you had felt in several days.

“So, uh...” Angel spoke up, hesitation in his voice. “You bein' in a bad mood have anything to do with Smiles takin' off outta the blue?”

You stiffened, giving Angel a look from the corner of your eye.

“I ain't one to pry, but shit, I've seen the way he looks at you when you ain't looking and now you're hidin' away on some fuckin' rooftop. You got it bad, bitch!” He cackled, one hand moving to fluff his hair dramatically.

“I-I,” You cleared your throat; you hadn't noticed Alastor _watching_ you _._ “It's nothing Angel, really...”

“Uh-huh,” Angel flicked the tip of his joint off the balcony and dusted his sweater off. “Whatever you say, babe. I know a _look_ when I see one and that's some serious pinin' you got goin' on.”

With a groan you let your forehead thump the edge of the railing, bringing your arms up to cover your head. You thumped it there repeatedly before Angel shot a hand out to stop you from continuing.

“Is it that obvious?” You felt embarrassment and something more akin to concern boil up in your stomach. If the Princess or (god forbid) Vaggie realized what was going on as well, you were certain your place at the Hotel would be called into question. You knew your choice to intertwine yourself in whatever scheme Alastor was working on did nothing to help your case, but you had hoped to work through your warring emotions without the others taking notice.

Perhaps your worry was written on your face, your openness aided by the drugs, as Angel set a hand on your shoulder as an attempt to console you.

“Ehh, your secret's safe with me,” He murmured low. “Although I dunno if getting caught up in whatever shit Al's into is worth it.”

He turned away from you then, pausing to fluff up the fur of his chest. He gave you a once over and then a rather salacious wink. “You ever get tired of chasin' Smiles down for some tail, hit me up babe. I'll even give you a discount cause I like you~” He gave a small tap to tip of your nose before flouncing off, waving an airy hand as he disappeared down the hatch.

You frowned at the spot Angel had just vacated, your drug-addled mind churning, unsure of how best to handle this newest bit of information. Clearly, you had not been as careful in your brooding as you thought you had been. Worry bloomed in your belly once more and with another groan you closed your eyes as you leaned over the railing. The breeze shifted your hair again and your shadows cooed your name repeatedly in your ear, stirred to life at your emotional turmoil.

Your nerves seemed amplified now, your skin crawling and your breath beginning to stutter. Shaking your head, you rolled your shoulders and with a wave of your hand, summoned a portal (time to work off some steam) You stepped through the mist, reappearing well across town. You had half a mind to find some john to flirt with and make a quick cash grab, work off the restlessness in your muscles.

Stepping off the curb, you had barely crossed the street when a loud crash and several screams erupted in the night air. You sigils flashed twice before simmering and a handful of shadows materialized to wrap themselves in your tresses.

“Sounds like a turf war, boys,” You murmured to them. One came to hang upside down from your right antler, small beady eyes crinkling when it smiled at you.

You puffed a quick breath, “Oh no, no, no. We aren't going. I'm done with all that nonsense...”

The majority of the chaos seemed to be coming from just a few blocks over and you wracked your brain to remember just who had control over this section of the Pentagram. The tingle had come back to rest at your fingertips and your ears twitched at a particularly harsh grating sound. The shrill sound of breaking glass came floating over the breeze. More screams lifted, your hair bristling slightly in response.

Some might argue that it was your innate curiosity (and drive to experience more) that had long since condemned you to rot in Hell, and some small voice in the back of mind urged you that this was just another example of how _dumb_ you could be. You could still feel the lingering effects of the drug you had shared with Angel Dust; combined with the unrest you had been feeling for the last week, it made you itch to cause a little mischief.

“Alright boys, let's take _just_ a peek.”

You winked into view just a few blocks over, making sure to give yourself cover behind a crumbling wall. Immediately you mentally slapped yourself for following your whims; the street was lined with storefronts showing various electronics and other technology. A little too late to remember that it was indeed _Vox_ who held this side of the Pentagram. It sounded as if some poor sinner had tried to make a move on his turf...

Your shadows whorled to life in front of you, their bottomless eyes impeaching you to stay, cooing words of encouragement. Their restlessness was evident and you felt a spike of guilt over the thought that they had perhaps been a bit cooped up lately...you truly were a sap.

“One window, you hear me. Then we're leaving.” You waved a palm and sent them off, watching as they immediately set to smashing the nearest storefront.

From behind you, screams rose, hinting that the action had moved a little too close for your comfort. You snapped your fingers, calling your shadows back. They blinked into existence before you and wrapped themselves around your arms and shoulders, like some great, undulating snake. Above you, an oversized digital billboard flickered, casting its blue light on the ground below. White noise reached your ears, causing goosebumps to rise on your flesh.

The evening air seemed to crackle, growing steadily heavier with coarse humming. Your hair stood on end and your antlers shifted outwards slightly, as though responding to the threat that hung in the air. In your ears, your shadows whispered words of warning. You turned on your heel, prepared to step through their mist, when long black cords caught you around your middle, immediately snapping you up and off your feet, your arms trapped to your sides. The frayed ends lifted to your face, sparking and fizzling dangerously mere inches from your nose. Muted shocks coursed through your limbs and at the base of your skull, a spark occasionally misfired making your muscles spasm.

“Well now, hello there bambi,” A slick voice crooned. “Isn't this just a swell little surprise.”

The soft electric current buzzing through you locked your jaw, so you settled for a deep glare.

Stepping from the shadows, tall, dark, with a menacing smile stretching across his screen, Vox tipped his hat with one hand; the other curled its fingers, causing the cords that bound you to float you forward.

“Cat got your tongue, dollface?” The TV demon snickered, his screen flickering rapidly in his apparent excitement; the blue light illuminated your face. “Kinda rude of you, dont'cha think? We haven't seen each other in so long~”

As though offended by your silence, the cords bound around your waist relinquished their hold. You dropped to the ground, a moan breaking free from your throat. Your limbs tingled as the electric current slowly ebbed. A hand grasped you around the wrist and you were tugged back to your feet, albeit legs still a bit wobbly.

“Go fuck yourself, Vox.” You hissed and yanked your arm free of his grasp, hair beginning to whip around your shoulders as though in a warning.

“Now, now, kitty cat,” Vox began circling you, his screen flickering rapidly through several images. You knew not to look, knew that Vox often relied on mind control to subdue his victims; however, out of the corner of your eye, you still caught the distorted image of-

“Abigail!?” You spun to face the TV demon, your surprise at seeing your sister's image more than evident. It quickly ebbed into anger. “I swear to the Almighty above, Vox, if you have her somewhere, I'm going to-”

Vox threw his head back and laughed, the sound distorted and heavy with white noise. Your ears bristled, your shoulders growing tense.

“Let's say I do,” Vox sauntered closer to you. “What's it to you, little thing? Hmm? Why, the way I see it, I've just caught you nosin' around my streets. You're an awfully long way from home.”

You remained silent, eyeing the other demon wearily. He could overpower you easily, and while you did not fear the Overlords quite like so many others did, Vox was a particularly stubborn thorn in your side, ever since-

“If you're looking for some insight, Vox, I have none.” You crossed your arms over your chest, unable to help the edge that entered your voice. “I haven't seen the bastard in some time now.”

Vox chuckled, the sound rumbling from within his chest, “I'm not inclined to believe you and I think we both know why.”

You felt nerves swoop low in your gut; the last time you had seen Vox you _had_ been tailing Alastor. It had been a few decades since you had crossed paths with the TV demon, and while he certainly did not seem to take the same pleasure in hunting you as he did Alastor, you knew the mere link of association did not bode well for you.

“Y'know what I think, sweetheart?” Vox cooed, coming closer to loom over you. “I think you're a little liar. That breaks my heart, you see, I thought we are close~”

On his screen, another flash of Abigail appeared, although this time her face (still the same cherub you remembered her as) was twisted in agony, her body snapping and distorting violently. You flinched at the sight, keeping your eyes pressed shut, your ears lying flat back along your head. Behind your eyelids, blue sparks fluttered and fizzled like dying fireworks. White noise swelled in your head, pressure building behind your temple. From some distant plane, you _heard_ Abigail's sweet voice call your name; it was so unexpected your eyes flew open and you yelped-

“Stop!”

Just as quickly as it had started, the assault on your senses disappeared. You were left shivering, breath hiccuping in your chest. Vox was laughing openly now, his head thrown back and glee evident in his tone.

“Well, sure thing bambi.” You were abruptly hoisted off your feet by his cables once more; however, this time there was no sting of electricity. He twisted his hand, claws splayed, so that you came to rest in the air just in front of his face, albeit upside down. One frayed end came to spark just before the tip of your nose; when you tried to focus on it, it began to sway enticingly.

“Why don't we shake on it, hmm? I'll let your pretty little morsel of a sister go, and in return, you do that fancy little _snappity snap_ of yours and bring me the Radio Demon.”

Your stomach dropped, coiling in a spike of nausea. If he truly had found Abigail down here before you had...

“I told you, I don't know where he is,” You said, unable to keep the slight tremble from your voice. The thought of your dear sister being held captive somewhere, subjected to whatever ill-meant desire of this Overlord, was too much to bear.

Vox clicked his tongue, pressing one clawed hand to his chest in mockery, “Now I truly am insulted. That freak has been tailing you for _decades,_ I've seen him pull you out of thin fucking air with a click of his fingers-” His anger was growing again, his crazed eyes widening, the antenna on his hat sparking dangerously.

You swallowed harshly, eyeing him closely. The last thing you needed was to set Vox off further and risk getting too hurt to find Abigail in time to help. It was rare that sinners, even those born in Hell, could Erase each other (only the Exterminators held that power, although there were rumours Lucifer as King had retained his abilities) but extensive bodily harm was more than possible. And after all, the TV demon had a fair point; the last time you _had_ faced him, Alastor had summoned you to aid in the battle. In your ears, your shadows began to whisper,

_careful/careful/careful_

“That was over 20 years ago,” You muttered lowly; Vox tipped his large head to show he was listening. “Besides, _he_ can find me. I can't find him. You really think the Radio Demon would shackle himself to anyone like that?” Your own words made some strange longing bloom in your chest.

Something akin to uncertainty flared in Vox's eyes, and his screen flickered as though trying to focus on the airwaves. He shook his head and adjusted the top hat at sat perched on top of his screen. Still holding you upside down, he crooked one finger so that you floated alarmingly close to him; your cheek smooshed against the metallic edge of his head.

“That's a real shame, beautiful,” He growled. “If what you say is true, you're useless to me after all...”

You were abruptly thrown into the wall opposite of where he stood. The cement cracked from the volatility of it, and immediately your vision swam as you crumpled to the ground. Pain flared in your ribs and you were sure some of them had broken from the force alone; you could feel them shifting, cracking back into place as your form regenerated, the change accelerated in light of your spiking adrenaline.

“I'll make sure to return that pretty little head of yours to your sister. She misses you so~”

His cables came flying towards you again, this time hissing loudly with the electric current that surged through them. Your shadows swarmed and swirled around your prone form, causing Vox to nearly disappear, save the eerie blue glow from his screen flickering through their inky mass. His laughter came loud and clear even above the crackle of his white noise, and although you had bought yourself enough time to move from his direct path, you knew it was far from over.

One cable flew through the mist, striking the wall just above your left antler; the crack of it sounded like thunder and your twin shadow unfurled itself, a torn screech sounding from its depths as it came to life. Vox laughed again, the sound thunderous in his apparent glee. It seemed to reverberate around you, and you realized with a slight chill that he was broadcasting; every screen in Pentagram city would be lit up, speakers blaring at full volume.

“That's more like it, dollface!” He crowed, his voice distorted as it seemed to loom all around you; his glow was becoming more consistent through the gloom as he grew closer. “Let's play, shall we?”

Another bolt of electricity shrieked through the air, landing just beyond your left shoulder. It hit a window, the glass shattering and raining down on you. You lifted your arms to shield your face, panic beginning to bloom in your chest. Your shadows weren't much match against the extent of Vox's powers and Alastor had never gifted you the full extent of his own power; Vox's cables were swinging wildly about, hoping to land a hit. In the recess of your mind, Abigail's sweet, rosy-cheeked face came forward, and you felt undeniable rage bubble up in your gut. You had been waiting for _years_ and to think that you had lost the chance to ever see her again...

A scream of rage echoed in the air, and as though from some distance, you realized it was your own. Your twin shadow swelled in size, long black hair whipping as though snakes were coiling there. It's claw elongated and following the urging of the _anger_ in the pit of your core, you leaned into the feeling of magic buzzing under your skin and sent it flying forward, maw full of gnashing teeth. The sigils that littered your ashen skin flared, fiery and hot. Around you, the air seemed to shimmer with heat and more sigils bloomed around you.

One cable was severed, the hiss of its frayed wires sounding over the din. Vox pulled the rest of his cables back immediately so that he disappeared within the mist again. Your skin was practically humming, power thrumming in your fingertips, and a deep buzz had settled at the base of your spine, quite unlike you had felt before. Around you, the sigils you had cast seemed to wink on and off, surging with the power behind your summons.

Gritting your teeth, you snapped your fingers, and immediately your mist vanished. Your twin shadow flared, tangles of hair coming to float around you in a manner that was almost enticing, undulating like ocean waves about your form. You could feel your form beginning to twitch, a deep itch settling in your antlers and your fangs and claws grew longer, sharper. With the haze cleared, you and Vox took a moment to eye each other; you were panting as though you had run a mile, while much to your disdain the Overlord looked rather self-satisfied and at ease; he seemed to know he had you on the cusp of changing and took smug pleasure in that fact.

Just as you were beginning to wonder if you could try to escape, to step through your shadows to _anywhere but here_ , you caught the slightest twitch of Vox's claws, and once more found yourself diving out of the way of a rapidly fired cable. It hit a lamppost just a few feet away from where you came to a rest, causing sparks to rain down and the post to topple; by the time you had focused on him, he had sent two more wriggling through the air. Your twin shadow whorled, swallowing the wires in its depths before they could strike. It's inky mass lit up, sparks fluttering about. Vox snarled, his anger more than evident from his curled lips and gnashing grin. Behind you, another lamppost was snuffed out, and with white noise swelling ominously, a rolling blackout swept Pentagram City. Immediately, the street was lost to near darkness, although the white, ethereal glow from the Halo above cast the surrounding area into a rather chilling scene.

As though some switch had been thrown, you shifted into your Other form. Your antlers cracked and contorted, the sound harsh and grating even above the noise Vox was creating. They grew to an almost alarming length, many sharp prongs flaring up. Your hair grew in length and began to lash around your head, as though it had become a crown of vipers. Your claws, already viciously long from your partial shift earlier, curled and became more jagged. Your pupils blew out, so your eyes were black voids. Around you, the sigils flickered, burning as though consuming themselves. Rising above the din, your shadows raised their voices, practically howling as they swirled around the pair of you. You caught the look of surprise that passed over Vox's screen, his face looming in the darkness, his eyes widening slightly before he seemed to compose himself, and another grating laugh escaped him.

“Well done!” He cried dramatically, voice cutting above your noise; the bastard had the audacity to _clap_.

“Tell me where she is, Vox!” You snarled, your voice hollow enough that it seemed to echo; your feet left the ground on their own volition and you floated forward, tiptoes just brushing the concrete, propelled by your shadows.

“Hmm,” Vox's claws tapped against his screen, as though he was pondering your request. “No...no, I don't think I will. That's not usually how _deals_ work, sweetheart. You should know that!” He punctuated his point by sending another cable whipping through the darkness; you caught sight of it purely due to the spark emitting from its open, worn end.

With a snarl, you clenched one hand tightly, so that your shadows pulled back enough to intercept the attack. Another loud sizzle broke the air as the wire was snagged and broken before it could land its hit. Pushing through with your momentum, you sent your twin shadow forward, its long claws and fangs groping in the semidarkness. It was with great satisfaction that you heard the sound of _glass_ shattering. A howl of rage left Vox and when he finally fully stepped out from his cover, you saw you had landed enough of a hit to crack the upper right corner of his screen, his top-hat crooked on his head.

“Playtime's over, you _bitch!”_ Vox spat, venom dripping in his tone. He clapped his hands together and behind him, a store window lit up. Numerous television screens flicked to life, their light harsh and grating in the darkness, static rolling. You couldn't stop yourself from squinting, and the small break in your concentration made it easy for him to send three wires soaring. The first missed, hitting the wall behind you again and showering you in grit and grime. The second struck true and you watched as your twin shadow shrieked, the electric current sending off sparks that seemed to cause the creature to burn from the inside out; it disappeared in a plume of smoke, a lingering cry left in the air. The third became tangled in your left antler and coiled itself so tightly that you were easily yanked forwards. You came to a stop mere inches from Vox's face, his screen flickering and warping violently in his rage. Behind him, the wall of television screens cycled rapidly, various disturbing and sinful images flying past your eyes until they came to pause on-

_You_. You as you had been when alive, naive eyes alight and a gentle smile on your face. The you on the screen suddenly pitched in on itself, form coiling and bubbling grotesquely until your Other form bloomed to life, although the pixels were distorted to the point that the image was no longer clear. Your monstrous maw opened and your fangs gnashed before the image warped once more back into your Human visage. The screens flashed and cycled through this image, white noise swelling once more; you could practically feel the buzz in your gums, making your jaw lock.

Vox traced one claw along the curve of your cheek, seemingly uncaring that you were still caught in your shift. The cable that had wrapped itself around your antler grew, wrapping around your body as though it was some beastly constrictor, binding you so you could not raise your arms to summon your shadows. A few tight squeezes had the air escaping your lungs with a wheeze, and Vox laughed cruelly, puffs of hot air brushing your face.

The block suddenly lit up, any available screen showing your ghastly change

_over and over and over and over-_

The large billboard that hovered above the city line also began filtering this feed, casting the ground in a ghostly glare of blue light. You watched the scene, doubt and panic heavy in your stomach. Vox had wanted you to shift...had wanted to be able to broadcast that he had you - the realization struck you dumb - caught in your shift and under his wraps while he pumped a steady pulse of electric current to keep you subdued.

“And now we wait, sweetheart.” Vox crooned in your ear, delighting in pulling you closer to his side. He merely chuckled when you attempted to bare your teeth at him.

Had you been in possession of your heart, you were sure it would have been thundering in your chest as you struggled to keep your growing panic down. You had been foolish to engage with Vox and the chances of reaching your sister in time were fading with each second that passed.

A small breeze ruffled the usual stifling heat and humidity of the air, but nothing more stirred. A low growl sounded from Vox's chest and he twisted his palm so that the wire holding you moved to hang you upside down once more. With your antlers still extended and your teeth dangerously elongated, this seemed to be the easiest way for Vox to stare you down, his mad eyes twitching. Your hair coiled and brushed along your crown and shoulders, unfazed by the change in gravity.

“Well!” The TV demon snapped finally, after another few moments of dead, white noise. You answered him with a low growl of your own, the sound bubbling up despite your paralyzed form. Vox snarled, and dragged you even closer so that you nearly went cross-eyed trying to keep him in focus.

“Where is _he_?” Vox clenched his teeth, his anger all too palpable. You gave him the best glare you were capable of in response.

Vox was breathing hard, panting in his rage, his screen cycling rapidly through images. Behind him, the screen continued to play the loop of your shift. One clawed hand came to grip you about the throat and you were twisted cruelly to face him head-on, your spine snapping and joints protesting the unnatural angle he forced you into.

“Unfortunately for you, I'm not a patient demon. It seems as though _lover boy_ has had his fill of you after all.” His hand tightened dangerously on your neck, making it bend at an uncomfortable slant. With a shift of his hand, your neck cracked hard enough that you momentarily blacked out before the rush of pain brought you back. His screen waned in and out of focus, and you were vaguely aware that he was still taunting you.

“Stupid girl,” He smirked. “I may not be able to kill you, but I'll make sure there's nothing left for him to put back.” He suddenly dropped you unceremoniously to the ground, one boot coming to rest on the top of your head, nestled between your antlers. Your shape warped and rippled on the ground, body caught between your shift and being unable to muster the energy to sustain the change for much longer given the damage you were trying to recover from.

Vox pressed the heel of his boot down harder, “Your precious doll of a sister isn't even here. Not yet anyway, but I'll be here to greet her for you when she does fall...”

You were graced with another dazzling pulse of electricity, your muscles finally seizing and locking up under the sustained assault. Under his continued attack, you were unable to cast and summon any of your shadows. Beyond the edge of your terrified mind, you were vaguely aware of Vox grasping your upper arm before a sickening crack sounded and he separated the limb from the joint. Pain blazed down your spine, wracking your body. A scream caught in your paralyzed throat but the laughter that came from the Overlord above you quickly rose above the pathetic sounds you were making. Unknown to you, the images on the screens warped to show you as you were, arm torn from your quivering body as you struggled to shift back, to escape, to do anything other than sit in his grasp. In your head, rippling in and out of focus as you began to falter, static soared-

The air swelled with the sound of a large brass band, sharp swing notes, and dizzying horn blaring along. The pressure on your head was released suddenly, followed by a loud crash, the sound of glass breaking ringing out. You felt as though you were drifting off under some strong current, your vision coming in breaking waves; still, you caught the tail end of what sounded very much like a round of applause...

“Good evening ladies and gentlemen, and that technicolor rainbow in between!” An all too familiar voice crowed, jubilant and airy. “What a scandalous scene we've stumbled across tonight!”

You heard the sound of heeled boots clicking towards you, and you tried in vain to lift your head to greet your sudden savour. You blinked against the pain still searing through your body, head clearing just enough to bring _red_ into focus. Above you, eyes burning out of the looming darkness, Alastor grinned and twirled his microphone.

“Oh-ho-ho!” He cried with a flourish, bending over to better look you over. “It seems our dearest dame has met her match. Oh what shame!”

He tutted and prodded the gnarly end of your torn shoulder, causing you to hiss in pain. Your stomach coiled hotly and you struggled against the urge to purge it of its contents. Breathing in harshly through your nose, you blinked again and fought to focus on him.

“A-Al,” You puffed out, your throat raw and burning. Your nerves misfired, muscles spasming occasionally, still fighting off the effects of Vox's attack.

“Need a hand, darling?” His mirth thickened his tone, and you blinked in mortified surprise when he waved your _severed arm_ in your face. His ghostly laugh track sounded.

He rolled his eyes at your obvious disdain, and with a jerk of his hand he cast sigils outwards. Another snap of his fingers had your arm reattached, the bones and socket buzzing with the energy from his magic. Your neck snapped back into place, the jutting discs popping back into place one by one. You were lifted by a few of his shadows and placed gently on your feet. You shook your head to clear it one last time, before taking in the scene before you. Alastor was there, so excited he was prancing around on the balls of his feet; behind him, Vox was coiled tightly in numerous black tentacles. Shards of glass littered the immediate area, as the store window and all the television sets had been smashed.

You gingerly rotated your arm, the joint clicking a few times before it seemed to settle into place once more. It tingled, your ability to regenerate already beginning to mend the damage left. Just as soon as you began to feel clear-headed finally, you were yanked forward and into a deep bow. From your position upside down, you stared up into Vox's face. His screen had been further damaged, a large crack running nearly vertically top to bottom. His teeth were grit in a snarl, lips curling back like some feral creature. You were pulled back up and came nose to nose with Alastor, his grin maddeningly wide.

“Quite the opening act, my dear!” He spun you around so you pressed back into his front. It left you nowhere else to look except at Vox. You felt Alastor press his lips to the shell of your ear, goosebumps rising on your skin despite yourself. The emptiness in your breast eased as usual and you found yourself pressing back into his chest as though seeking more of that particular feeling.

“Shall we give him an encore?”

At his words, a deep thrill ran down your spine and your sigils burned steady for the first time all evening, their red light casting your form in a soft warm glow. He laced his right hand with your own, intertwining your fingers. With his left, he clicked his fingers and the wriggling mass of tentacles that bound Vox disappeared, vanished off. The Overlord dropped to his feet with surprising grace and he seemed to double in size as thick cords fanned out around him. Alastor squeezed the hand he was holding and at his encouragement, you felt your power crest, your shift coming easily.

“ _That's my girl_ ,” Alastor crooned, his voice growing distorted as he too shifted, his form growing grotesquely, antlers spiking like some great tree scraping the night sky. His eyes smoldered in the semi-darkness, radio dials flickering in their depths. His microphone blared to life, a mechanical whine echoing in the air. He twirled it, showmanship evident even in his beastly transformation, and his shadows bloomed around the pair of you, creating such a wind that your hair and dress fluttered madly about.

You closed your eyes briefly and then raised your hands, palms up. Your shadowy companions materialized, cooing in your ears soothingly before swelling in size and contorting their shapes to form smoothly in with Alastor's own. From across the street, Vox sneered, although, with his damaged screen, the image flicked on and off, distorted and fuzzy.

“How nice of you to finally join us, Alastor,” Vox called. He clapped his hands together and pulled them apart to form a sizable ball of static electricity that danced and rippled between his claws, the hum audible even from the distance. The Overlord seemed to warp around the edges of his form, rippling with pulses of energy.

Next to you, Alastor chuckled, the sound distorted and heavy with static and swung his microphone with his usual grace so it came to rest in the crook of his one arm, “I'd be amiss to waste such an opportunity for a little _fun._ ”

Electricity crackled through the air, splitting through the mist of your combined shadows; it was the only warning before Vox sent the massive ball of static electricity volleying towards you and Alastor. Pulses of energy spiked outwards, striking your shadows and causing them to erupt into small sparks, whizzing through the air like tiny fireworks.

Alastor hoisted his microphone high and gave it a spin. Large, black tentacles materialized from a portal out of thin air, streaking towards Vox in retaliation. The ball of energy stuck true to the largest one, and it pulled back as though seared, the smell of scorched flesh tainting the air. Several others managed to make it through Vox's attack, two of them managing to wrap around his leg and another his right arm. The one around his arm tightened, cracking the limb backward at such an angle you knew it was broken.

With a flick of his open palm, Alastor had the mass of shadows ascending sharply, before reaching their peak and plummeting down towards Vox's form, their voices lifted as ghastly screeching. You felt compelled to lean into the _buzz_ that had settled under your skin since your morph; you closed your eyes and willed the shadows to pick up speed. For a quick moment your power seemed to mold with Alastor's. The sound of glass shattering made your eyes open and you saw Vox blown nearly completely back, his screen nearly demolished, large chunks of screen missing completely from his visage. The tentacles had managed to keep him somewhat on his feet and when he lifted his head back, he looked more crazed than you had ever seen.

Alastor's keen laughter drew your attention away from Vox slightly, and it was during this break in focus that Vox erupted, pulses of electrical energy flaring; the tentacles retracted, flames charring their flesh until it peeled back to show the bone beneath. A high pitched snarl filled the air as the entity pulled back, retreating into its portal. Vox shot another electric orb, this time directly at you. You managed to dodge it, the shadows swarming around you and taking it into their depths. It fizzled and popped, sounding like grease that had been thrown on a fire.

You leaned into the feeling under your skin, and you lifted into the air, tiptoes skimming the ground as you moved. From the corner of your eye, you caught sight of Alastor, form hunched and grotesque, somehow more massive than he had been previously. He had his palms up, casting sigils through the night air. They bloomed like tiny supernovas, light pulsing as their power picked up. The wind began to sweep tightly, picking up pace. Soon, it was howling as though some great beast itself, the gales from its force ripping wood and paint from nearby storefronts. The debris swarmed around Vox, and the Overlord was momentarily distracted, forced to shoot static currents outwards, as though trying to clear a path.

Alastor snapped his fingers, his large hands then curling in on themselves with an odd grace. The very air around you seemed to warp and fill with ghastly images that seared into your mind's eye even when you tightly closed your eyes against what was coming. You suddenly heard Vox let loose some deep, fiendish snarl and opened your eyes just in time to see a bolt of fiery lightning streak towards Alastor.

Your body seemed to react instinctively. Your sigils flared so brightly, they momentarily illuminated the entire street block with a flash of red. Deep, burning fissures cracked on your flesh, like a spider web running every which way, connecting each individual sign carved on your body. You felt a strong tingle start at the base of your spine and travel along until it buzzed at your fingertips. You leaned into the feeling; every muscle in your body tensed and when you raised your hands, a flame burned in your open palms. With barely a pause to marvel at this new form of power, you quickly shot the stream of fire off in Vox's direction.

Vox was too preoccupied with holding off Alastor, who had summoned another mass of writhing tentacles, to notice your attack until it was much too late. The flames hit him directly, and the air was filled with the sound of wires crackling and the smell of burnt and melting metal hit your senses.

Working in tandem, several tentacles shot out and wrapped tightly around Vox once more, squeezing him until his screen burst from the pressure, shards of glass raining down. An oversized portal appeared in the middle of the street, opening up like some gaping sinkhole. One larger tentacle reared back and promptly pitched Vox into the opening, the portal snapping shut as soon as his form disappeared. With another ear-bursting explosion, the black mass of creature vanished and the wind from your combined and whirling shadows began to die down.

You sucked in a deep breath, the smoke and grit in the air making your lungs sear despite the fact they were long now dead. You felt your skin itch and you closed your eyes to allow your form to shift back. Your antlers shuddered and cracked, raining bits of bone down on you; you shook your head slightly to clear any remaining bits. Your sigils simmered on your skin, flickering like starlight, but at least the irritating buzz that had lingered there had dissipated. Another shake and a quick glance down at yourself confirmed you had shed your monstrous visage and looked as common as you normally did.

Just as you turned to see if you could glimpse Alastor, the large billboard across the street keeled over with some great mechanical groan and toppled. It fell with a solid finality, a great thundering crash that shook the ground.

You kept your arm up over your face as the dust settled, various clangs sounding as the last few pieces crumbled down. You coughed against the grit that settled at the back of your tongue and shook your head to clear the debris from your ears and hair. The air was hazy and unsettled, and you blinked several times before the world would focus. Across the street, some poor demon's humble shop was on fire.

Radio static washed over your skin, your body still sensitive from your shift. Skin crawling, you turned to glare at the figure stalking towards you.

“I hate you,” You spat as Alastor drew closer, although there was no real malice in your voice. He had also shed the remains of his morph, looking as collected and impeccable as he always did, microphone twirling lazily in his hands.

“Yes, we've established that darling,” He drawled, grabbing you by the forearms and twisting you in a dizzy turn. You wound up splayed rather enticingly in his arms. “Although you must admit it was a rather _daring_ show!”

You frowned up at him, frustration spiking as the adrenaline from the battle ebbed.

“Took you long enough,” You griped, contorting in such a manner that allowed you to escape his clutches.

You took a moment to regard the spot where Vox had disappeared, as though waiting for him to reappear suddenly; you were still a bit on edge.

“You looked like you had him, sweetheart!” Alastor cried, his happiness all too evident. “I thought it only fair you should have your turn before I entered stage left!” He shot you a wink and spun his microphone so it hit the ground with a soft thud.

“Awfully convenient, showing up _now,”_ You huffed, unable to keep the hurt from your voice. Hearing that kind of tone to your voice only made you feel more irritated.

Alastor took a step toward you and out of instinct, you stepped back, determined to keep some modicum of the distance between the two of you. You were entirely too _raw_ to be dealing with any of his games, still too unsure of your own emotions to be entertaining whatever he had planned. Your action caused him to pause; he tilted his head to regard you closer and folded his hands behind his back, microphone tucked neatly in the crook of his elbow.

He remained still for another moment before stepping forward again. Again, you stepped back, your heel hitting the edge of the curb. You stepped back and up, gaining the sidewalk as if for good measure. Alastor's eyes narrowed dangerously but he did not go to move again.

“Your ungratefulness is tiring. Why you feel compelled to consistently try my patience-”

You flinched as though he had struck you, “I never wanted any of this!” You cried, feeling tears starting to gather. You bit your lower lip, hoping to stave off your emotions.

Alastor's tone was cruel, mocking, “We made a deal, little songbird. At your request, if I do remember correctly.”

You faltered-

_I'm yours, Alastor. And you're mine._

“I-I meant, don't dance with other girls, take me to the picture show once in a while,” You couldn't keep the whine from your voice. “Not _rotting in this cesspool_. I was barely 21, Alastor! I shouldn't of – you! You took...I never wanted to-to... _die_...”

Your rambling was cut off by a sharp spike of static. Before you, Alastor's form rippled, waves of broken white noise cresting as he contorted and shifted once more; he was terrifying as always, branching antlers and eyes flickering into dials. You lowered your ears in defense and went to step into your shift, but the air around you seemed to thicken, keeping your feet planted and your body in it's less threatening form. Your sigils blared to life, the light so strong it illuminated the darkness around you, casting long shadows behind you, which coiled to life and began to crawl towards you, unnatural in their movements. The first trickle of fear ran down your spine as you watched them from the corner of your eye.

In a burst of false confidence you bared your teeth; despite your sudden inability to change, the warning was clear. Alastor _loomed_ in the semidarkness, one large hand with elongated claws snapping up to grab you around the throat. You were lifted off your feet, his strength in this form undeniable.

“ _You think I wished to die,”_ His voice was thick with distortion, his tone gravelly and coarse. “ _I acted as needed. You were mine long before I ripped your heart from your chest, girl._ ”

His grip grew tighter still until you were unable to pull in full breaths; you may have been long dead, muscle memory fuelling most of your bodily functions, but panic still flared in your chest at the sensation.

“ _I own you,”_ His teeth gnashed mere inches from your face, breath hot and foul on your cheeks. “ _I've indulged your independence for decades without you realizing the extent of the hold I have on you._ ”

As if to prove his point, he dropped you unceremoniously from his great height so you landed in a crumpled heap. You were too concerned with trying to slow your breathing to notice he had disappeared. A wind picked up, causing you to have to cover your face with your arms; it shrieked in your ears like some morbid creature. It caught your dress in such a manner that it felt like fingers pulling and pinching. It died just as suddenly as it began and when you cracked your eyes open, you found yourself staring at your reflection in the inky depths of _water_.

You jolted back from the edge of the bank and stumbled to your feet, looking around to see yourself deep in the lush vegetation of a swamp. The sound of crickets and the occasional deep baritone of a frog was the only noise you could discern.

Your ears drooped, unease blooming in your belly. You knew deep down this was simply one of Alastor's tricks; however, it all felt terribly _real_ , and you couldn't help the shiver that passed over you.

The wind shifted again, this time suspiciously gentle as it carded through your hair. With an annoyed huff, you squared your shoulders and made to step forward when a black mist unfurled from the long grass, swallowing your surroundings.

You froze, the sound of many scuttling legs cutting through the mist; you watched in horror as the mist undulated and swarmed, it's mass folding in on itself before spilling forth as thousands of spiders, their bodies pitch black and hairy, many beaded eyes focused on you as they tumbled forward. Your breath caught in your throat and you pitched backward, losing balance.

The water was shockingly cold as you plunged back into its depths. You broke the surface and sucked a panicked breath into your lungs, your muscles burning as the chill set in. Your teeth chattered, although you were unsure if from the chill or your sudden fright. You cast your panicked eyes back towards to the earthy bank and had a moment of misplaced relief when you saw the spiders had disappeared. You hesitated for a moment before moving forward once more. Your foot caught in the mucky bottom and briefly you worried you might be trapped; with a sharp tug, you were able to pop your shoe free and began making your way to the edge, using your momentum to keep you from sinking. You felt a burst of relief as your fingers sunk into the grass and dirt of the bank.

Something hard yet slimy grabbed your lower calf and you were instantly dragged back under the surface. A stream of panicked bubbles escaped you and your eyes opened wide, the murky water stinging them. You couldn't see what it was that held you down, the water too dirty for you to be able to see much past your nose. Whatever had a hold on you was strong and easily held you submerged. You may not have needed to breathe anymore, but the panic that flared in your chest was all too real; your muscles reacted on memory and you gulped in cold, stagnant water and felt your chest _flood_.

Another tug had you laid out on the muck and silt of the bottom, weeds tangling in your hair. Your scream came gurgling up from your throat, you saw Abigail's face, now rotted and showing glimpses of bone, loom out from the murkiness. Her hair tangled around her as though mockery of a halo, her graceful fingers now twisted in a death grip on your calf. You reacted out of pure instinct, your muscles contracting and a flare of adrenaline allowing you to twist free from her grasp, your limbs failing and stirring the murky water. You felt your toes hit the bottom and with a great kick, you managed to break through to the surface again.

You blinked the water from your eyes, unable to help the sobs that tore from your throat. Unwilling to remain in the water any longer, you scrambled to the grassy ledge with absolutely no grace. You managed to pull yourself up and lay yourself out, feeling the razor grass prickle your skin.

You were aware you were hysterical, your cries harsh and jagged. You couldn't quite seem to catch your breath and some deep throb was pulsing in your temples. Your tears came hot and fast, stinging your chilled cheeks. Just beyond you, the swamp water bubbled as though suddenly boiling, small waves breaking against the shoreline. You squeezed your eyes shut, unwilling to confirm what you expected to see, sobs wracking your body.

The bubbling eased and was replaced with a high yet airy _whistle,_ the _creature's_ breathing laboured as it began dragging itself out of the water. You grit your teeth against the anguish that roared to life in your chest, trying and failing to keep yourself calm. The wails that lodged in your throat burst free at the first touch of its thin, bony fingers. You felt its rotted flesh give way from the pressure it exerted against your arm and you felt bile sear the back of your palate. Some dark, terrible emotion welled up in your breast and you felt your resolve crack.

“Yes!” Your eyes flew open as the words burst from your lips. “I'm yours, always yours! Please, stop! _Please!_ ”

Immediately, the scene around you cleared and you found yourself looking up at the reddish night sky, the usual sounds of Pentagram City reaching your ears and helping lift the haze from your mind. You gulped in air, the sound jagged and pitiful, hiccups shaking your frame as your tears finally began to ease. You closed your eyes as the clip of heeled boots reached your ears, feeling a few lingering tears roll into your hairline.

When you reopened them, Alastor towered over you. Although he had lost the residues of his morph, his smile was stretched so wide his eyes were mere slits. He was tapping his claws against the shaft of his microphone, observing you closely. You stared blatantly back, eyes wide and doe-like.

He angled his head, one eyebrow quirking as though a challenge. Without a word, he bent neatly at the waist and extended a hand. Your eyes darted to his open palm, a whirlwind of emotions boiling up in your gut. You knew what he was proposing, his intent clear despite his continued silence. You let go of the breath you hadn't realized you were holding, shuddering slightly. You forced yourself to make eye contact as you lifted your hand and placed it delicately in his own. Green light, over-saturated and brilliant in hue, flared at the point of touch and you felt its heat wash over you briefly before it petered out.

His eyes closed with a pleased hum as he gently tugged you to your feet, the momentum of which caused you to tumble into his chest. When he opened them again, he stared down at you with some unfamiliar emotion shining in their depths. You felt raw and overly vulnerable, your body quivering as the stress from the evening washed over you.

You took a chance and softly pressed yourself into him, allowing yourself to take sick comfort from his presence. Your gut rolled, warring with your mind over the fact that he was still your greatest tormentor while offering you the comfort you had long been starved of.

His arms came to wrap around you, pulling you flush to him. You felt his lips brush your ear as he crooned your name softly. Teeth nipped at your lobe and you flinched slightly, his grip tightening in response.

“Good girl,” He cooed and you were ashamed when your stomach gave an excited lurch at his praise. You buried your face into his sternum, hoping he wouldn't be able to see the blush flaming on your cheeks. His laughter rumbled in his chest and with a squeeze, he pulled you along with him through his shadows.

You pulled back just enough to look up and realize he had transported you both back to the Hotel, the front entrance still lit up despite the late hour. The sudden change in brightness made you blink harshly, but you were still able to catch a glimpse of the maddeningly wide grin on his face as one claw moved to tip your chin up.

You swallowed harshly as he ducked his head to brush his lips against yours, sparks of power igniting at the contact and racing down your spine. You made a queer keening sound when he pulled away, ears twitching with uncertainty. Your mind buzzed, overloaded, and unfocused. Your eyes dropped in submission (his eyes crinkled in delight at the display) and in doing so you finally caught sight of the figure standing just outside the door.

Standing at your arrival, the light shining down on her long blonde hair as though to cast a halo there, Charlie pursed her lips before crossing her arms over her chest. Behind her, you caught sight of Vaggie, her face twisted in anger and her spear clutched dangerously tight in one fist. Your stomach dropped to your feet and with a deep shock you realized that Alastor had most definitely broadcast your latest scuffle.

Alastor pushed you forward with a nudge from his knee, a hand on the small of your back, and you wobbled headfirst on unsure legs. What little bit of peace you had been awarded quickly evaporated the closer you moved to the Princess. You came to a stop just before her, your apology dying on your tongue at the sight of her. Her face was stony and set, but her eyes were glistening, unable to truly hide her disappointment. Your chest _hurt_ and you had to blink away tears of your own. Silence stretched out for quite some time until Vaggie made a deep noise of disgust.

“What the _fuck_ is going on?!” Vaggie yelled, hair and bow spiking in her anger. Charlie stood next to her, silent and with her arms still crossed tightly over her chest. You felt a wave of disappointment and guilt wash over yourself.

You pushed your way out of Alastor's arms, although he stepped forward to shadow you. You wobbled slightly, your muscles still protesting the movement.

“Charlie, I...” Your voice faltered and you cleared your throat.

“Oh no, no!” Vaggie yelled, her fist balled up at her side. “The rules are clear! No trouble, no turf wars, and definitely no..no...fucking around with _this one_!” 

Alastor raised an eyebrow at the implication but miraculously stayed silent, radio cycling softly behind you. You caught a few tinkling bars of _la vie en rose_ and some strange wave of emotion crested in your chest. You resolved not to tell them about the depth of your situation, at least not yet.

“This is _my_ problem. Seriously, I-I went out alone and Al is the one who found me, that's all...” 

“So wandering the streets of Pentagram City _after dark_ is your idea of good behaviour?!” Vaggie snarled, her hands gesturing wildly. “The whole Nine Circles got to hear your little show! No one is going to want to come and stay at this Hotel if they think they're going to be Erased by the Radio Demon and his little _pet_.” 

Your hair bristled, indignity flaring at her words, “Vox attacked me.”

“You shouldn't have even been in his territory!” Vaggie's voice was reaching an octave you had yet to hear from her. She stumbled over her next words before squeezing her eyes shut and letting forth what you could only assume was a string of expletives in her native tongue.

“I didn't mean to end up there, really,” You sought Charlie out with your eyes, trying to convey just how truly sorry you were through your expression. She met your eye contact with a cool gaze, her shoulders squaring slightly. You were struck by how _noble_ she looked, her heritage evident in the way she carried herself. You felt a small flicker of unease flare in your belly; you expected to have to deal with an angry Vaggie, but you had never been on the receiving end of Charlie's disappointment before. It made you feel small in a way that you had not felt in decades. 

Charlie sighed and shook her head, “I think we all need to just get some rest.” The Princess made eye contact with you straight on, and you felt as though you shrunk. “We can talk in the morning.” Her eyes jumped to Alastor, who gave her a short bow, his grin perhaps more sardonic than it should have been.

His bony fingers came to rest on your shoulders and you were steered through the great hall; your ears flattened as you passed the pair, Vaggie's good eye narrowed and following you.

Once you had gained the relative quiet of the hallway, Alastor seemed to gain a little more pep in his step. He grabbed you by the hand and together he pulled you through the shadows, jubilant and showy in his actions. You appeared in the quiet solace of your room, the lamp turning on and flooding the area with soft light. Alastor gave you a twirl, catching you off guard so you tumbled into his arms once more. He hummed his radio filtering and playing some soft, flowy waltz. He encouraged you to move, despite the sudden exhaustion that washed over your body, although you couldn't help but trail your eyes over your bed as he swung you past, longing evident on your face.

He stopped suddenly so that you crashed into him; he tutted above you, wicked glee on his face. You went to open your mouth to snark off at him, frustration rising against your exhaustion, but he quickly pressed a long finger to your lips. You bit your tongue, eyes narrowing slightly as he pressed the tip of his nose to yours, the action affectionate despite the uneasy tension that simmered between the pair of you. He pulled back and his other hand came up to touch your forehead, sweeping it down over your brow and bridge of your nose. You instantly went limp, all strength leaving your body abruptly and your eyes had closed before you had even collapsed in his arms. Your head lolled back slightly, one arm splaying out and drooping; the sight struck some familiar chord in him and he wet his bottom lip to ease the burn of anticipation that churned in his core.

With movements so gentle any sinner would have been shocked to see it from him, Alastor tucked you into your bed, fluffing your pillow and drawing the blanket up close to your chin. You didn't stir at all, breathing even and slow, your slumber deep and all-consuming. He seemed to content to hover over you, watching your face closely, before he shook himself from his stupor and summoned his microphone. That old sense of purpose filled him again; it would seem, he had some business to attend to. With a click of his fingers, he summoned his twin shadow to stay and watch over your prone form, and then with a soft pop, he disappeared.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of the End.

You were pulled from sleep as if from some great undertow, your exhausted mind fighting against the return to consciousness. Your muscles were sore and protested the shifting of your form, skin erupting in chills as the scratchy blanket you had been cocooned in slipped away as you forced your limbs to stretch. Warily blinking the sleep from your eyes, you took in the low light that flooded the room; it was late morning, at most, and you were surprised that the other patrons of the Hotel had yet to come looking for you. 

Especially given your behaviour the previous evening. 

A rush of heady, confusing emotions washed over you, setting your stomach into nervous knots. Out of nervous habit, you sucked your bottom lip over your pointed teeth and began to nibble on the corner of your mouth. Just the thought alone of the difficult conversation you were due to have with Charlie was enough to make you groan and throw the duvet back over your head. 

Cursing your ever-lasting need for excitement and your apparent inability to know what was good for you, you rubbed your thumb against the tick that appeared in your temple. You mildly noted that your body felt ragged, muscles sore and skin almost itchy feeling, as though the magic from your transformation from the night before was still thrumming under the epidermis. Your stomach coiled in on itself, nerves fluttering wildly, and you had to pause and count your breathing as a wave of nausea washed over you. You felt almost hungover – the building pressure in your head was steadily moving towards migraine territory, and as another small hit of queasiness hit you, you threw off the blanket once more so a rush of slightly fresher air could hit your face. 

You blinked up at the ceiling and cursed aloud, noting your tongue felt sand-papery and heavy in your mouth. 

At the sound of your voice, something from the corner of your peripherals shifted. With a flinch, you turned your head (vision swimming slightly from a rush of vertigo, even though you were in fact still laid out on your back) and found yourself staring into the bottomless depths of Alastor's twin shadow. It's maw open and closed, working endlessly to gnash it's sharp teeth together; it's mass wasn't quite solid and it seemed to ripple as it stalked forward, as though better to see you. 

Much like its original master, it struggled with personal boundaries and soon came to loom over you. In a moment of affection that surprised you, it reached out with one wispy shadowy hand and patted you on the head as if you were some delicate little creature. You allowed it this small discretion but after a few moments, when your skin began to crawl from the touch against your still oversensitive nerves, you batted it away and sat up fully. Bracing yourself against the ratty headboard of the bed, you crossed your arms over your chest and fixed the Shadow with a steely look. 

“After all that, and he leaves you, huh?” You murmured lowly, watching as the Shadow seemed to undulate and shift, never truly one solid form, in front of you. It's mouth twisted into a horrifyingly wide grin, bleak eyes narrowing as though it understood the implications behind your words. “Some gentleman...” You trailed off with a sigh. 

The Shadow said nothing (of course), continuing to just exist as some shimmering, roving mass above you. You scoffed and rolled your eyes. With one last stretch – the vertebrae in your spine popping audibly – you finally scooted from the bed to traipse over to your closet. Fresh clothes were in order before you got on with the bigger task on hand that morning.

“How about a cup of coffee there, pal?” You threw the question at it over your shoulder. “Can you handle that or did your boss only give you sentry duty?”

The Shadow's terrible mouth furled into a wild grin, as though it were finally happy to have a task to do, and it blinked out of view. By the time it returned with a cup of steaming black coffee, you had freshened yourself up, although your body still twinged with pain if you moved too fast. It would undoubtedly take some time to work out the knots in your muscles, but at the first sip from your mug, you felt warmth fill your belly and before long the last dregs of fog had lifted from your mind.

Instead, your mind now turned to how best to approach your main task; to grovel at the feet of Hell's own heiress. It was clear that the time for continued lies and misdirection had passed. The implication behind your seemingly willing relationship with Alastor now meant you owed the Princess a proper explanation, at the very least. With a spike of guilt, you remembered the look of disappointment on Charlie's face – something about it cut deeper than if she had been angry, just as Vaggie had rightly been. Your stomach churned hotly and you briefly regretted drinking the coffee so quickly, your growing emotional state doing nothing to help your struggle with queasiness. 

You gave a sigh of disgust and tapped your open palm against your own forehead. 

_ Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.  _ Why even now while rotting away in your cursed Afterlife were you still such a dumb broad? 

Knowing that you could easily waste away the rest of the day by festering over your less-than-becoming aspects of personality, you forced yourself to move away from that particular train of thought and took another deep breath as an attempt to calm your rising nerves. 

You swore again and ran a hand through your hair. Nothing to do except accept the consequences and get on with it, you supposed – you eyed the Shadow still lingering in the corner of your room, ever the quiet watchdog. 

“Um,” You started, eyeing it closely. “I suppose you can go now...” You trailed off, unsure if perhaps Alastor had meant for it to remain with you. You realized then that your own shadows were absent, although you could still feel the slight tingle of your shared connection with them buzzing in your fingertips. It felt as though some hum of gentle electricity was dammed and you made a note to grill Alastor over the on-going inconsistencies in your powers. 

His shadow seemed to swell and it picked up a gust of wind seemingly from nowhere, before disappearing abruptly from view with a soft pop. You rolled your eyes at its dramatics and gave yourself a mental shake. You would deal with the Radio Demon later; y ou had bigger issues to deal with today, namely grovelling for forgiveness at the feet of a certain Princess.

You made your way then to the fourth floor, knowing Charlie had taken over a small office space there. Reaching the door, you took a deep breath (holding it painfully) and raised your hand to knock.

“Hold on!” An all to sweet voice trilled from the other side and the door opened to Charlie's gentle face beaming. “Oh! You're awake,” She easily opened the door, motioning for you to move inside. It shut with a soft click behind you and yet the noise immediately set you on edge. Your guilt and nerves getting the best of you.

“I figured after everything last night, it was best if I just let you rest.” Charlie moved towards the small desk that sat in the centre of the room so she could lean against it.

You followed, taking in more of the room as you went. Behind the desk, a large sweeping bookcase stood, many dusty and worn tomes on display. The desk itself was scattered with books and paper, most of the latter seemed to be drawings of what appeared to be steps to redemption. On one, you saw doodles of rainbows, hearts, and smiley faces with the word HEAVEN heavily pencilled in. Your mouth went dry, guilt bubbling up inside.

“I thought I should find you,” You murmured, unable to keep your fingers from reaching out, tracing the delicate loops of the cursive she had used to write with. “I want to apologize for last night, I put the Hotel and everyone inside it at risk and-and I don't think what you're doing is silly, I really don't-”

Charlie took you gently by the shoulders, cutting your ramble off mid-sentence, “It's OK, really. I know Vaggie means well, but this is Hell after all. I mean, it wasn't cool that you did what you did, but  I was more worried about you.”

Your next words died on your tongue as you stared back at her. You couldn't remember the last time someone had genuinely cared for your safety...

“Me?” You managed to squeak out.

“Well, of course!” Charlie smiled warmly, and you found yourself grinning softly to match.

“Mhmm...that doesn't exactly make me feel better,” You murmured, an odd warmth flushing your ashen skin. “But I mean it, I truly do. I want nothing more than to find redemption, so, ah, it won't happen again, I promise!” You crossed your fingers over the place where your heart once rested, hoping she could see the honesty in your eyes.

“I believe you,” Charlie said earnestly, giving you a tight hug. Her affection threw you off at first (she truly was too good for this place), but you were all too happy to lean into it, relishing her warmth.

She gave you one last squeeze and then moved to sit again at the desk. “Maybe we should talk about it though, I'm not sure how best to help you move on without all the details. Just, uh, how close are you with Al?”

Your mind blanked as the rather salacious scenes flashed across your thoughts. You felt your jaw square, back teeth grinding slightly as you took a moment to best think of how to explain everything. It didn't help that you were still awfully confused at just how close you were to Alastor...

You sighed, “I'm sorry, Charlie, I-I don't think I can even explain myself...”

“Well,” Charlie leaned across the small desk, her eyes wide and shining with honesty. “Why don't you just try?” She offered you a small smile.

A beat hung in the air as you struggled to find the words-

“Alastor murdered me  _ an'rippedoutmyheart _ .” You blurted in a muddled breath.

Charlie's grin vanished instantly. Something flashed in her eyes and you thought you caught sight of the demon that idled beneath her warm countenance.

“Uh,” The Princess blinked. “What?”

You couldn't stop the pathetic whine that seemed to bubble up from your throat and your ears dropped to follow the curve of your head.

“We, uh, well, we knew each other topside,” You gestured upwards, your nerves showing at having to share your secrets.

You had a feeling certain others (Husk, perhaps, and maybe even Rosie-) had an idea of why you were indebted to the Radio Demon, but that didn't stop you from feeling vulnerable at the thought of divulging your past. It was your sentimentality that got you into this mess in the very first place.

"And-” Charlie stood from her chair to pace over to you. “He's the one who killed you? I...hmm...I don't- well, uh, you seem  _ friendly _ .” She gave you a pointed look and you couldn't hold back your amused huff.

“It was almost a century ago, well, give or take a decade.” You chuckled nervously. “Things have, um, come up over the years.”

“Right,” Charlie nodded her head, although her tone suggested she didn't quite believe you. 

To be fair, you weren't sure you believed your own feelings, as muddled and stilted as they were. But this was Hell, after all, and you knew that if anyone could possibly understand the toil of damnation on your own choices, it had to be the heiress. 

She moved then to the small, threadbare settee that was nestled in one corner. It looked clean, most likely thanks to Niffty, although springs were showing through its worn material and the wooden moulding at the back of it was scuffed beyond repair. Charlie patted the spot next to her and your legs moved forward with little thought. You settled next to her, fingers nervously smoothing down your dress.

“I,” You murmured and then paused. To her credit, Charlie remained quiet, her presence supportive. “I don't even know where to start.”

Charlie gave a small shrug and placed a hand on your shoulder, “Start at the beginning, however long it takes, I'm here.” She gave you a gentle squeeze.

Your chest constricted, still unsure of this form of affection after so long. You took a deep breath, hoping it would stave off the tears you felt threatening to spill.

“My momma,” Your voice was quiet but surprisingly steady. You kept your eyes down, trained on a worn spot on the once-grand area rug. “She died not long after my sister was born. Secondary infection, the doctor said. My daddy, bless him, did the best he could suddenly being in charge of caring for two girls. My aunt came to stay for a while, but eventually she had to go back to St. Louis...” 

You shook your head, realizing the more mundane human aspects probably didn't truly matter.

“Anyway, I grew up quickly after that; I had to help daddy as much as I could and while Abigail was the sweetest babe, she was no real trouble at all...still all I did was study and work at the same little cafe my daddy did, and-and helped him with my sister. It was hard work, but it was my life.” You shrugged; out of the corner of your eye you saw Charlie press closer, softly encouraging you to continue.

You bit your lip, unsure of how best to explain just how caught up in Alastor you had been (although you doubted whether you could pinpoint if you had ever stopped). You lifted your head and brushed your hair back, bringing your eyes to meet Charlie's.

“Al was -  _ is – _ chaos incarnate. I know that and I think I knew it back then too, but I was so caught up in finally living my life, experiencing so many new things...he was so charming, he knew all the right things to say and do...” You got to your feet and tread a path to look out the large window behind her tidy desk, working your nerves out with movement.

“That doesn't excuse what he did,” Charlie's voice came from behind you and you turned to see she had moved closer to you, her arms lightly crossed and a small frown on her face.

“No, I suppose it doesn't,” You conceded gently; hearing Charlie validate the very thing you had struggled with most during your time in Hell made your chest burst with gratitude. “It does put me in a bit of a pickle though.”

“Hmm?” Charlie had moved away to look over the various titles in the expansive bookshelf.

You shut your eyes, your hand pinching the bridge of your nose, “I think...no, I  _ know  _ he has some kind of hold on my, well, soul I guess. I don't think I'll be able to ascend to the pearly gates without somehow breaking it.”

You gave her an imploring look, but much to your dismay, Charlie's face fell. She chewed on the inside of her cheek, pressing her hands together. Taking a deep breath, you pressed on, walking closer to her and trailing your eyes over the tomes above.

“I thought, given who you are, you might know what these are or what they mean?” You turned to her and raised your arms, sigils smouldering.

Charlie stepped closer to you, her eyes narrowed as she studied your skin, button nose scrunched adorably in thought. She stood back with a slight sigh and shrugged, “Sigils are just symbolic representations of the casters desires. I'm sorry, I'm not sure what these mean, each caster has individual designs that mean specific things.” She tapped her chin and moved off, staring out the window of the study.

“Have you, I don't know,” She fidgeted with her hands. “Tried asking him?”

You stared at the Princess as though she had grown another head.

“I know it's not ideal,” Charlie raised a passive hand. “And I know you have no guarantee he'll tell you the truth...I-I...hmm...” She trailed off with a frown, biting her lower lip. “But he could also surprise you and tell you what you want to know. I mean, have you ever tried just asking?”

A beat hung in the empty air. You felt a twinge of nerves at the very thought.

“No,” You said softly. You had truly never thought to just ask him  _ how _ he had done it all. You had accused him of plenty, and certainly voiced your anger over your demise, assuming his greed and ego is what kept you tethered to him. 

You sighed deeply, realizing Charlie had a point.

“Maybe start there,” She said quietly, moving forward to wrap you in another tight hug. There was genuine emotion behind her squeeze and you found yourself blinking back tears. “I'm sorry this isn't easy for you, but it's probably needed, no loose ends kinda thing.” Her voice was soft and soothing in your ear.

“Right,” You muttered, before shaking your head with some force. “You're right, yes. I should just talk to him...”

Your instinct told you that would be easier said than done, but Charlie did have a point. You weren't sure how else to start your redemption process when such a massive obstacle remained.

“Thank you, Charlie, really,” You breathed, hoping she knew you were being sincere. In response, her arms somehow managed to grip you even tighter and you felt the dam in your chest burst, tears suddenly wetting your cheeks.

You pulled back with a sniffle and bashfully attempted to wipe your face clean. Gratefully, you noticed Charlie had dropped her gaze, allowing you a moment to gather yourself. Your empty chest clenched again, affection for the other being roaring inside.

“Well, just let me know what happens,” Charlie gave you an easy grin and moved to open the door for you. “And good luck.”

You nodded and glimpsed her give you a thumbs-up as the door closed. You breathed in sharply through your nose, nerves exploding like butterflies in your belly. With a soft groan, you forced your legs to begin walking back down to the lobby. You needed a proper, hard drink before tackling all this.

You were pleasantly surprised to see Angel lounging at the bar, pestering Husk as he always did. Maybe the spider's shenanigans could take your mind off your problems for just a while.

“Ahh, come on pussy cat,” Angel Dust purred, leaning over the bar top so his fluff was on display. “I'll make you feel real good~”

Angel walked two fingers over to Husk, trailing them up to gently tug on his whiskers. Husk's ears laid flat and a small growl sounded as he leaned back to escape the prodding touch. Angel, undeterred, simply twisted himself to lay proactively atop the bar, one leg bent enticingly, as his hand now fiddled with Husk's bow-tie.

“Fuck off,” Husk griped. “You're interrupting my day drinking.”

Angel rolled his eyes all too attractively and clicked his tongue, “Why is everyone in this joint such a stick in the mud?”

His eyes landed on you and a rather adorable grin broke across his face, “Oh shit!” He crowed, slinking off the bar to come to leer down at you. He promptly hoisted you up under the armpits, the great height difference between you two making it an easy enough feat. Angel plopped you down on one of the stools and sent two arms reaching blindly over the bar-top. You heard the brief tinkling of glass and when Angel pulled his arms back, he had two glasses and a dusty bottle of some dark liquor.

He blew Husk a kiss and then popped the top, quickly pouring you a drink. He slid the glass over to you and gazed at you with shining eyes, “So?!”

You looked down at your drink and then back to Angel, noting the excitement blazing on his face. “So, what?”

Angel sputtered, waving his glass around. It slopped, causing Husk to jerk back with a hiss, pupils wide. Angel set his drink down with a thud and his upper pair of hands came to rest on your shoulders. He pulled you in close - you were suddenly reminded of trading secrets with the other girls during your school days – and smirked down at you.

“Don't play coy with me, slut!” He teased, pulling a strand of your hair like some schoolboy. “I wanna hear all about your little rendezvous with Smiles.”

Your mouth dropped and you were suddenly all too aware of Husk's unblinking yellow eyes on you.

“What?!” You squeaked. You hastily took a big gulp of your drink, the alcohol searing as it went down.

“Ah, c'mon babe!” Angel sat back and took a sip of his drink. He gave you a wink over the rim. “We all heard Vaggie yellin' about it. So, just between us girls, can ~deer daddy~ kiss or do those creepy teeth get in the way?”

Your eyes widened over the rim of your glass; one look at the leer forming on Husk's face and then back at Angel's expectant expression, and you promptly pitched yourself backwards off the stool, a portal appearing and whisking you off in a blink. You heard Angel's cry of “Hey!” and your glass shattering as it hit the floor, before it was cut off and you found yourself staring up at the ceiling of your room from the comfort of your bed - you silently gave thanks that at least some of your powers remained. 

It was still unmade from earlier in the day; your hand landed on the nearest pillow. You brought it to your face and squealed into it, the sound half-wild with glee; butterflies coiled in your gut and you couldn't help the belly laugh that escaped you.

“ _ Deer daddy _ ?!” You wheezed, tears of mirth rolling down your cheeks as you tried to calm yourself. You took a deep breath, giggles ceasing. You rolled over and tucked your head under the covers, antlers and the tips of your tufted ears just peeking out. Another beat, and then another sudden wave of laughter tumbled from your lips, and you pressed your face into the mattress more, trying to stifle the sound. 

You couldn't quite remember the last time you had laughed like that, and it greatly helped soothe some of your lingering anxieties. 

“You know, darling, if I were a jealous man,” A voice drawled from across the room. “I don't think I'd take so kindly to hearing your laughter over another's attention.” 

With a gasp, you shot up, eyes searching the room until you landed upon the gleaming red orbs over by your modest wardrobe. You clicked your fingers so that your bedside lamp flickered on, washing the room in its soft light. There in front of you, sitting with his legs crossed and one foot bouncing gaily, sat Alastor. He had a book on his lap and a cup of coffee was suspended in mid-air next to him.

“Al, what are-?!” You went to admonish him for so obviously lurking in your room, when your eyes narrowed. You peered at him through your lashes, trying to gauge how much he had heard.

“You spend far too much time with that spider, my dear,” Alastor waved the mug away and stood, book disappearing off his lap with a faint pop.

“Angel's my friend, Al,” You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to conceal your grin. “If you actually had any, you'd understand.”

Alastor rolled his eyes before abruptly doing a rather graceful pirouette; he landed on his back in the middle of your bed, one hand draped dramatically across his face. The force of his jump and the difference in weight as he landed made it so you bounced a few times before you managed to steady yourself. The blanket slipped off your upper body and came to pool around your waist.

“Your cruel words have wounded me for the last time, darling!” He cried passionately, his tone at odds with the sardonic curl of his lips. “I'm but a simple man...”

You snorted and went to move off the bed when his strong arms quickly wrapped around your middle and dragged you back to him. He rolled you so you faced him, grin infuriatingly wide. You made a sound of displeasure but he ignored it in favour of pressing his cheek to yours; humming slightly, his hands trailed across your body, following the curves of your hips and sides. You sagged in his grasp, mind churning- perhaps if he was in a good mood, you'd be able to get out of him what you needed.

The two of you remained cuddled up for quite some time, Alastor's humming had been replaced with soft music from his radio, a brassy horn warbling against piano notes. You could feel his fingers tapping along your rib cage and you bleakly wondered if he was counting them. He moved his claws then to the bottom of your sternum and with a large hand pressed against your mid-drift, somehow managed to curl himself around you even tighter, tucking your head under his chin (mindful of your petite antlers) and propping a thigh between your knees.

More silence passed and you could feel the courage from earlier slipping away the longer you remained in his embrace, rather content to just watch as the light in your room changing into the glow of late afternoon and listen to the rhythm of his heart beneath his thin chest. Some small, dark part of you wondered what your Afterlife would have been like, had you just given in to his wishes from the start – your stomach knotted at the very thought and you silently admonished yourself –

He rolled suddenly, shifting you in his arms until you came to rest face to face, him propping his weight up on his elbows. Your difference in height was almost exaggerated, your much smaller form trapped effectively beneath his own weight. In spite of his wiry, almost starved frame, he was strong enough to keep you pinned without much effort. The grin he gave you was somehow both utterly charming and terrifying and you felt a small thrill travel down to the base of your spine.

“You seem otherwise distracted, little songbird,” There was open greed shining in his eyes as he leered down at you.

Your mouth turned dry and you swallowed harshly, blinking owlishly back up at him. Your tongue turned to lead and your mind ran blank, unable to voice the inner thoughts you had been tormenting yourself with. Instead, a rather pitiful whine tumbled from you as you darted your tongue out to wet your lips. Alastor's eyes tracked your movement, ever the sharp hunter. He chuckled, rumbling from low in his chest; your flesh crawled with goosebumps at the sound.

“Perhaps I can help you find your focus,” Alastor purred, brushing his nose against yours before capturing your lips, softly at first and then a nip to your bottom lip made you gasp; he deepened the kiss, tongue darting to taste you.

You felt the air leave your lungs and in a moment of submissiveness (did you ever act differently toward him now?) you angled your head to accept him easier. He pressed you deeper into the mattress, lips and teeth turning urgent against your own, as though the pliancy of your body only spurred him on more. 

Some weird keening sound reached your ears and with a pleasant jolt in your core, you realized you were the one making noise. You briefly wondered if this was merely evidence that the last shred of your humanity was evaporating; he had tormented you, essentially bullied you until you gave into his desires, and yet here you were, once more readily accepting any form of twisted affection he bestowed on you. 

Alastor hummed against your mouth, apparently more than pleased with your response. He shifted so one hand could press into the soft flesh of your side, claws tickling through your clothing, his intent clear. You squirmed slightly, your breath catching in your chest; you subconsciously pressed your thighs together, seeking to ease some of the deep ache that flared there.

His other hand moved to fist in your hair, claws scratching your scalp with little care, pulling sharply so your neck curved and bared your throat to him. His lips left yours to latch on to your pulse point, teeth scraping ever so lightly. Goosebumps flared against your skin, your sigils firing rapidly under his attention; the emptiness that usually echoed in your breast had ceased, replaced with soothing warmth.

He trailed the hand on your side down, stroking and occasionally pinching the flesh as he went, until he reached your core and after roughly bunching your dress up to your hips with no preamble, sought between your legs, clumsy and unsure still. Your thighs parted with little resistance, shame heating your cheeks. His large hand cupped you intimately and he murmured his approval against your neck, lips still firmly attached to the mark he was creating on your skin there.

“A-Alastor,” You panted, eyes squeezed shut. You weren't sure if you were ashamed of his actions against you or in your needy response.

He lifted his head to sigh your name, his breath hot in your ear. A shiver ran down your entire body and you began to shake in his arms. You felt his laughter rumble up from his chest, dangerous and alluring.

“How often must I remind you?” He nipped at your collarbone. “You are  _ mine  _ and mine alone.”

Your eyes flew open, catching the ghost of the threat in his words. The last dregs of your adrenaline evaporated and instead your muscles were filled with a heavyweight, the last 24 hours finally seeming to catch up with you. Your excitement now lagging, you sagged slightly in his grasp, unsure of the sudden emotion welling up in your chest.

“I didn't go looking for Vox,” You muttered, unable to mask the dour tone of your words.

“Hmm,” He murmured, drawing back to stare down at you, his hand slipping away from between your legs. “So you merely fancied a walk alone, on such unsavoury streets, so late at night?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, understanding what he was implying, “I work for Charlie now, I don't need to work the corners.”

Alastor's eyes widened slightly, as though amused by your choice of words; he tipped his head back and laughed, the sound colder than you expected.

“Dearest,” He tapered off into a chuckle and adjusted his monocle, looking down upon you as though there was nothing more amusing to him than your discomfort. “While I don't doubt your uncanny ability to endear yourself to those around you, our beloved Princess certainly has no claim to you.”

Your ears bent backwards, you could feel yourself growing defensive in light of his continued jeering. Still tucked tightly between his chest and your mattress, you could easily hear the thumping of his heart, long dead but beating steadily behind his ribs in mockery of life. Hell amplified your basic human needs in a cruelly ironic reminder of eternal struggle and you felt hunger, pain, exhaustion and fear on a daily basis. And now curled in none other than the Radio Demon's arms, the empty cavity of your chest ached with some long phantom feeling of misguided heartache. 

For one sinfully selfish moment you allowed yourself to wonder at what it might be like to simply exist to be his and only his, to stop fighting actively against the bonds of the deal you had – willing – struck. Decades ago, the thought of blood on your hands would've had you reeling. Now, just over a week later, the rush of power from your fight against Vox lingered, some static thrumming energy had settled in your bones and despite the restlessness, you found you rather  _ liked _ the feeling.

Your Afterlife had consisted thoroughly of nothing but pain and distress, survival your main course of action. For the first time, you were experiencing the aphrodisiac of being able to wield power and you found yourself hungry for it. You expected a rush of guilt, but instead found yourself growing almost anxiously excited. Your ambition and thirst for more out of life had cemented you to Alastor, drawn in like a moth to the flame by his popularity and charm, his promise of excitement and adventure. Even now, that idea that your Afterlife could so drastically change under his influence was terribly alluring. 

But then, as if dragged up from deep recess of your mind, perhaps truly the last inkling to your life before Death, Abigail's sweet cherub face swam to the front of your thoughts. It felt as though you were doused in ice water, your insides churning and coiling. You were much too easily persuaded by his means, and you felt a flicker of determination light in your sternum, as though to chase away any lingering doubt and hesitation. 

“I still want redemption, Alastor...” You trailed off, catching the none too subtle roll of Alastor's eyes.

A flare of irritation sparked in your empty chest and you quickly found yourself growing frustrated at his cryptic words and rather bratty antics. You lifted your hands and made to shove him off you, his boundaries be damned. In a flash, he had them pinned back by the sides of your head, his larger hands easily dwarfing your own. You growled your frustration and in a moment of childishness, tried to struggle just enough to displace him. 

Leering down at you, Alastor seemed more than content to allow you to struggle, easily holding you in place. When you finally stilled, noting it would be useless to continue to just tire yourself out fighting against his strength, he clicked his tongue as though admonishing you and shifted just enough to better position himself in a more dominating stance against your small frame.

He knew the power he held over you and although lording it over you was endlessly entertaining, it was only worth it to see your rather adorable emotional outbursts. Seeing the last ounce of fight leave your body, he simply swooped in to press his mouth against your throat, apparently intent on continuing to mark you. The sound of his radio returned, soft notes of music playing in the quiet air. 

With your stomach knotting and trying your best to simply ignore the Radio Demon attached to your neck, your anxiety grew as your thoughts turned back to your previous conundrum. What if Alastor was right? What if sinners really couldn't be redeemed? After all, what could the immortal, hell-born Princess truly know of the folly of humans. 

Then again, what did the man (beast) above you truly know of human nature? Had he not forged past what decency dictated only to chase after his own selfish needs? You doubted Alastor had ever truly felt affection for another (outside of his mother, perhaps) and you were unable to keep the sudden feeling of hopelessness wash over you. Filled with a sudden need to anchor yourself to  _ anything _ , least you get swept away by the steadily deteriorating flow of your inner thoughts, you turned your face so you could press your lips against his tufted ear. 

“Al?” You sighed, breath tickling the soft fur there. “You never did love me, did you?” 

Your words hung heavy in the air, weighted with bitterness that surprised even you. 

Alastor stilled, his radio cycling quickly and laced with thick static. He lifted himself off you completely, as though suddenly forced to retreat under the scrutiny of your emotional words, and winked out of your line of view to instead appear in the half shadow of the corner of your room. From there, his red eyes flickered to radio dials and back, his shoulders hunching as if struggling against the weight of your accusation. His grin morphed, edges twitching downwards. It was a rare moment of vulnerability and it seemed to catch the both of you off guard. 

Your ears, sensitive in your death-form, were still able to pick up random, broken jazzy notes of some slow song in between the distortion. Lamely, you were aware of the hot tears that gathered in the corner of your eyes again and pushed yourself off your bed. You could suddenly think of nothing more than wanting to escape from  _ him _ , from the room - or better yet, the entire Hotel - 

“No,” Alastor's voice was steady when he finally spoke, bringing you out of your moment of disassociation; your gut gave a painful clench despite that fact that you suspected as much. 

You swallowed against the lump in your throat and went to spin away on your heel, when his hand grabbed yours and pulled you sharply back. You crashed into his chest with more force than perhaps even he had expected, and he was forced to quickly adjust and catch you rather dashingly in his arms. His grin was still on the verge of becoming a grimace. One hand moved to trace along the curve of your cheekbone, the move so familiar you felt another wave of tears come, spilling hotly down your cheeks. He looked at you with half-lidded eyes and his tongue briefly peeked between his fangs.

“No,” He said again, voice suddenly an octave lower as though he was bestowing a secret. “At least, not in the way you perhaps think I should have.” 

Your breath hitched, and with a wave of embarrassment you watched as your vision blurred, turning him into a mass of  _ red _ , unable to stop the tears from coming. You were surprised then when you felt his lips press to yours, your mouth opening in shock; your tears had always made him uncomfortable, even when alive. 

In spite it all, you shamelessly gave in, kissing him back earnestly. You desperately tried to anchor yourself amidst the flurry of uncertain emotions whirling inside. Your mind, perhaps grateful for the distraction, ran blank as his lips pressed to mold to the spaces of your own. 

You pressed upwards against him, moving to stand on your tiptoes. He took the hint and adjusted his angle so the height difference wasn't so exaggerated, his hand tucking gently behind your ear in support and the other pressed to the small of your back, helping to curve your spine so you fell flush against him. 

Several long moments passed and finally you made yourself tear away from him, hiccups starting to shake your form as you tried to catch your breath. Your wet eyes flicked to his own gaze, his eyes burning in the now slowly fading light of your room – evidence that you two had been locked away for some time and that evening would be arriving soon. 

Alastor sighed your name, one clawed finger moving to wipe away a stubborn tear still clinging to your cheek. He shifted you in his arms and you felt the tingle of his magic begin to race up the length of your extremities - 

“Time to come home, darling.” 

And just as simple as that, your body exhausted from the emotional roller-coaster of the last day, you willingly followed his gentle urging and pitched forward into the pull of his shadows. In the blink of an eye, the two of you disappeared from your Hotel room, leaving nothing but rumpled bedding and sigils burning hotly in the empty air. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof. 
> 
> If you've stuck with me this long, thank you for your patience with my sudden disappearance. I'm happy to say I'm back on my bullshit! 
> 
> We're quickly hurtling towards the end of this little series, although I have several posts to come. As always, the timeline will jump around, please bear with me. We will get to our final destination ;) 
> 
> As always, thank you for sinning with me!

**Author's Note:**

> This ended up being a little different than my usual tone when writing, but it was fun! 
> 
> This is a 2-part piece, and although I am almost done the second half I'm not sure when I will have it up. I have had some family issues come up and it has depleted all my creative drive lately. But since the first half has been sitting in my folder for weeks now I thought I would take the plunge and just post something. 
> 
> I hope it was still enjoyable!
> 
> As always, thank you for sinning with me!


End file.
